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The following two fights went by with little enthusiasm from the audience. Their thirst for blood had been beyond satiated, and now they were simply left sick. Foley withstood his opponent’s attacks as always, waiting for him to tire before opening his defenses and striking back. Saimallah crushed his opponent without touching him, ending the match in seconds.

Harnessing all of his strength and gambling his life, Roc slammed Ingram square in the face with the stump of his missing arm. It was far from a graceful punch, more like a clumsy jab, but Ingram, so focused on everything else and having never expected such an attack in a thousand years, was utterly discombobulated by the hit, and inadvertently released Roc. Roc pulled away and escaped to the sky, with Ingram having just enough time to slow his descent and avoid a fatal impact. He still hit the ground with bone-breaking force, but he was alive. Roc landed beside him, staring at his vanquished opponent, with the crowd still trying to process what had happened. Until now, Roc had never acknowledged them, but now, he raised his missing arm, as though holding up an invisible fist in triumph, and the spectators erupted into cheers.

Her hands shot up above her head, one to cover her mouth, while the other reached up to the ceiling to brace herself. Sarah’s body rocked with the most powerful orgasm she ever had. Every part of her trembled, shaking the bed as her toes curled in, but her hand on the ceiling kept her steady. Clapping her hand over her mouth she was barely able to suppress a long moan that came directly from her core. Her eyes were glued to her father watching his breath and listening to his snoring. Finally, her rolling orgasm came to an end, her father letting out a loud snore as he exhaled.